


Sunlight

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: Just You and Me and the Grief [9]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Immortal Wives Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Pre-Canon, Short & Sweet, Temporary Character Death, True Love, i love these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27525874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: Andromache and Quynh are attacked by bandits. They share a moment.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko
Series: Just You and Me and the Grief [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947685
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: You are beautiful.

Andromache had never been fond of the bow and arrow, though she had always appreciated the strategy. She preferred to get her hands dirty and wade directly into the fight, to see the faces of those she was to slay, to face the reality of what and who she was. Her opinion on the weapon only rose minutely when Quynh proved to be particularly skillful with it, using it both in distance and close range combat, still it didn’t change the reality that she absolutely detested the sensation of an arrow lodged in her chest.

They had been set upon by bandits, ignorant fools that had seen two women as easy targets on the road. There had been eight of them in all and now seven lay in the dirt shuddering through their last breaths, their last heartbeats. Unfortunately, Andromache was among them, the last of the bandits, coward that he was, at kept his distance and let loose an arrow before galloping away as though that would save his life.

Turning her head, Andromache watched as he fell from his horse, Quynh hitting him with deadly precision. Grimacing, she spit on the ground, tinged red as blood bubbled up her throat, lazily seeped from her chest. With a trembling hand, Andromache reached up to wrap her fingers around the shaft, found her grip slippery with blood and too weak to pull it from her chest.

A familiar calloused hand closed over her own and she blinked blearily up at Quynh who looked down at her with stormy eyes, “hush Andromache, I have it.”

There was no chance to brace herself for the pain, not that it would have helped anyway, as Quynh’s hand held the arrow firmly and pulled, her expression twisting into something regretful. It was impossible to stop the cry that was torn from her lips, pain racing across her chest and down her spine, body lifting from the ground briefly.

The next thing she knew, she was gathered in Quynh’s lap, her arms wrapped firmly around her, as she struggled to breathe. Andromache had hoped she’d be able to heal swiftly enough to avoid a death this time around but that was becoming rather unlikely from the way Quynh’s jaw was clenched so tightly.

“It’s alright Andromache, I’m here,” her voice was tense, and she knew Quynh was working hard to contain her emotions, the wound left by Lykon’s death still raw for them both. “Just come back quickly, alright? You know how impatient I am.”

The words to comfort her were on the tip of her tongue, lips already forming the shapes to take away the pain emanating in Quynh’s usually lively eyes. Yet, before she could bring them to life, before she could make everything okay, she felt her chest go still as her last breath shuddered through her throat and into the space between them.

Andromache died with her eyes still open, staring up at the bright, cloudless sky.

When she returned, a stray thought floated through her head, even before the first rise of her chest, ‘not a bad day to die.’

She was uncomfortable, knees digging into her back and the hands clenched around her arms too tight, like they feared she would slip from them like sand through shaking fingers. Blinking slowly, Andromache found Quynh with her head bowed, lips moving silently, surely not in prayer, as she waited. There was no telling how it long it took for her to wake up this time, though usually an arrow was hardly an inconvenience, still it was obvious she had taken longer then she should have…or their patience for the seconds between ones last breath and first had shrunk significantly since Lykon.

Perhaps it was cruel of her not to immediately say something, to reassure Quynh that she had survived yet another death. Except, when she looked at her, words were stolen from her lips quite suddenly. Andromache was not prone to flowery language and shared no love for the poets and bards they encountered in the villages…yet for once she found herself wishing she knew how to craft such a thing if only to remember this moment.

Quynh looked beautiful.

Her hair, which had been tied neatly out of her face, had come loose in the scuffle with the bandit. Strands hung gracefully around the shape of her, curling and messy in the way Andromache liked best, more slipping from their bonds the longer they went unchecked. While her expression was tense, brows furrowed in a familiar fear, there was no denying the beauty of her, even with dirt marring her skin, blood speckled along her cheek. This particular roadside was dense with trees and the sun angled itself perfectly to send beams of light through the rustling leaves, making the woman she loved practically glisten, turning her into something ethereal and untouchable.

Andromache could not bear the warmth that settled in her chest, the fondness that settled in her heart since the day she first found the other woman in the desert. She had felt their connection that first night, even as they tentatively discovered one another, learned to trust and fight by each other’s side. Yet, even after all this time, she found herself blindsided by the love she felt for her, by the intensity of it all.

Reaching up, Andromache carefully brushed back Quynh’s hair, startling her into opening her eyes, “Andromache?”

Smiling widely, she ignored the relief in that familiar gaze in favour of speaking her mind, “you are beautiful.”

Quynh blinked before snorting abruptly, “did you manage to hit your head when you fell my love? Are you still dying of a concussion?”

“I must be,” Andromache replied faux seriously. “That didn’t sound like me at all.”

Quynh smiled for a moment before it faltered into something more serious, “you took your time Andromache. No more needless deaths, understand?”

Andromache settled a hand behind Quynh’s head, only to pull her down, as she herself finally sat up, kissing her fiercely. It was the only answer she could give. They both knew that death was hardly a choice and while they usually would never be felled by a lone bandit, mistakes were bound to happen regardless.

When they finally parted, Quynh just sighed and nodded.


End file.
